Two Wrongs and a Right
by Cleopatra Antoinette
Summary: When Seleema and Morregon ended up in Skyrim, the last thing they expected to do was fall for a pair of handsome werewolf brothers. Sadly, the women were both on the road less traveled... and there was no foreseeable way to bring their men along. Rated M for adult scenes. So if you're a kid... don't tell your parents you're reading this.
1. Chapter 1

Hi, guys! This is my first Skyrim story ever and my first M fic that I've done in quite some time! I adore Skyrim, and I adore the Wolf Brothers (as I like to call them in my mind), so I had to write about them and their relationships with my two characters, Morregon Sidhe the Breton Mage and Seleema Dajiin the Redguard Warrior.

A small amount of background will serve to keep the story from being too confusing. Basically, the way it works in my mind (their story, that is) goes like this: Seleema was a Redguard bodyguard for the Breton noble who Morregon is distantly related to and also worked for. The nobleman got involved in some shady business that came back to bite him in the butt, and long story short, both girls found themselves on the road with no place to go. They wind up in Skyrim, like what happens in the game, but from there it goes into my head-cannon story. Seleema becomes the Dragonborn and does all that important stuff, and meanwhile, Morregon does all the extra side-quest stuff. They're both important in different ways. I hope that clarifies things. I could have done separate stories for each character, but I didn't want either of the brothers to be lonely… that would be sad. So the result is this.

As the rating states, this story is rated M for Mature, and it is rated this way because of SEX. If you have a problem with this, you don't have to read it. If you DO have a problem with this and read it anyway… then you're just silly.

I do not own Skyrim or any characters therein, except for Sel and Morrie.

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**The Split in the Road**

Vilkas knew Morregon was leaving. It was obvious that she was tired of trying to prove herself to the Companions over and over. Unlike Seleema, who had garnered the respect of the Companions almost immediately, Morregon was suspect from the beginning. Also unlike Seleema, whose prowess with the blade was impressive even by Vilkas' standards, Morregon's skills lay not in martial strength, but in pure magical talent. And she was _very_ talented. Vilkas was no expert in magic himself; most people able to use it either stayed in courts of jarls where they were kept safe and respected, or they went to Winterhold, to the Mage College.

He had never cared before about mages. He didn't have to see how people treated them himself as none lived in Whiterun save for the one that served the jarl. Then when Morregon came along, he had seen it himself, even participated in it unknowingly. After all, she hadn't used blades, bows, axes, or even staves, which might have been somewhat acceptable. Instead, when they asked to see an example of her skills, her hands lit up with flames and lightning, her green eyes bright with sparks of magic. Farkas had sneered in disgust and Skjor had just laughed. Vilkas has been tempted to ask her what in the name of the Divines did she think she was doing, but her face had turned bright red from the taunting laughter and she had launched her magic at him. He had barely been able to block her fireballs and eventually had to resort to ducking and dodging- not his forte at all. The Companions who had only moments before been scornful of the idea of a mage in their ranks had stood in shock, and finally begrudgingly consented that perhaps there was something useful to having a 'fire-twirler' (as Skjor had mockingly called it) in the ranks.

Aela had been indifferent for the most part, and the younger members treated both Morregon and Seleema with detached disdain as new members to the band. Kodlak had been the most welcoming out of all of them. He had been especially kindly towards Morregon, knowing that she must have had a hard time with his followers.

"It's been too long since we've had a sorcerer among us," he said, smiling gently at her. "You're a welcome addition." Morregon had appreciated his kind words, but they had rung hollow as the rest of them continually plagued her.

Seleema was eventually admired by the other Champion initiates, and respected by those in the inner circle. Her skill with two handed weapons matched Farkas' and Vilkas' as well, which was pretty good considering they'd been at it all their lives. But, then again, she was a Redguard, so they shouldn't have been surprised.

Vilkas also shouldn't have been surprised when Farkas began to see her as more than a Shield-Sister. The Redguard woman wasn't unattractive by any means. Her dark skin, blue eyes and strange tattoos made her a unique sight among the Nords of Whiterun. Despite her strength and choice of weapon, she was remarkably graceful and quite intelligent too. As Vilkas thought about it, she was in fact, quite lovely. She just wasn't what he wanted. She was a little too dark for his tastes, a little too aggressive, a little too… well, hard. Vilkas had a difficult time admitting it even to himself because he thought it made him appear weak, but after growing up and living with toughened warriors who spent their days training, eating and drinking, men and women alike, he started to appreciate women who were more delicate, who didn't spend their days pummeling things to death. That wasn't to say he liked spindly, weak willed and submissive women. He just enjoyed women who didn't wake up to small sounds in the night worrying that it was an assassin.

Seleema was very sweet. Honest, kind, dependable, and she treated everyone with respect until she got annoyed with them. Then she'd smack them upside the head. Farkas appreciated the words of encouragement she had for him, and over time Vilkas couldn't help but notice that the compliments turned from swordsmanship to things like his courage, and his loyalty, and his eyes. That one had made Farkas blush ever so slightly, and made Vilkas gag.

But Morregon was different. No matter how well she did her assigned tasks, she rarely received any recognition, and it was always from Seleema or Kodlak, and eventually from Farkas. But instead of giving up and moving on, she took harder assignments, larger assignments, sometimes coming back from them with injuries that couldn't possibly have been as minor as she claimed they were. And so Seleema asked Vilkas to start going with her, despite her friend's protestation.

Vilkas hadn't been too happy about it at first either; he had better things to do than watch some new whelp stumble around, getting herself hurt. But Morregan didn't get herself hurt. Not only did she prove to be capable in a fight, she was quick on her feet and even faster with her mind- and mouth. More than once, her snarky comments made the hardened warrior's mouth turn up at the corners in amusement. It was a rare feat, and one that she didn't seem to realize she had accomplished. He often wondered how such a small thing could be so damned good at killing. She was no warrior; her delicate frame betrayed her Breton blood, and (although it wasn't something he said openly to others) for her to abandon her magical gifts would have been a waste.

Eventually, he wasn't sure when, he started to look forward to their journeys together. They were never as simple as they sounded at the beginning. They were being constantly side-tracked, with Morregan wanting to go here and there and _Oh, look at this!_ and _Hey! Vilkas, come see! _being constantly shouted to him as the mage went wandering off in all different directions. More than once he had had to go and pull her out from a hole, or carry her to a soft patch of grass to see if her ankle was sprained. But she was funny, witty, sarcastic, flamboyant, and although he was about as talkative as a tree at times, she was always friendly towards him.

After a while, Vilkas just had to throw his hands up and admit defeat; she was going to be his friend and make him like her no matter what. He might as well get used to the idea. Soon he started packing his things up whenever she wanted to go off on an adventure without her even asking if he wanted to come. He didn't really know he was in trouble until one day when they were in some middle-of-nowhere town and he had lost track of her (again). He had finally decided to resort to asking people if they had seen her.

"She has remarkably green eyes," he would say. "Soft brown hair, usually back in a braid, green tattoos across her face like this," and here he would move his fingers over his own face to show where they were, "and she laughs a lot." He caught himself speaking this way to a guard and realized that his voice changed as he talked about her. It got _softer_. Vilkas stopped talking, lost in his own thoughts, and then angrily exclaimed "SHIT!" This was a bad sign.

The guard just patted his shoulder sympathetically. "We all catch it at some point," he said.

It only got worse from then on. He began to notice everything about Morregon. The way she looked when she was thinking, the way she pulled back her long bangs and hair into a braid, how she would sing as she cooked, the way she would smile at him when he said something nice to her. Vilkas also noticed how she seemed to cave into herself when someone said something hurtful, how the normally talkative woman would remain silent in the presence of the other Companions. He hated it when she was _that_ kind of quiet- not the quiet that came to her at the end of a long day of traveling or accomplishing things, when she would sigh contentedly and lie back, enjoying the lethargic feeling flowing into her limbs, but quiet as though she didn't think that anyone would hear or listen to her.

The final straw, as the metaphor went, happened the night that they had Turned Seleema. She had been unanimously chosen to be included into the Circle, although Vilkas had suggested they also bring Morregon in as well. Farkas had agreed since she was Seleema and Vilkas' friend, and his as well, but he had ultimately bowed to the refusal of Skjor and Aela, not wanting to anger them overmuch. Vilkas had eventually shut up as well, although his anger stewed under the surface and they could all see it. So Seleema had been changed, and her werewolf form was beautiful in its fearsomeness. But of course, she hadn't been able to control herself at that point and had gone tearing through the town, giving those who were awake at that hour heart attacks.

But Morregon had seen, Divines have mercy, and she knew, she _knew_ the moment she saw the werewolf and the Companions chasing after it. She helped them chase Seleema down and she learned the truth, and then asked "Why haven't I been brought into the circle? Have I not done enough? Have I not fought enough? I have done more than she has done," and here she pointed at the unconscious and changing figure of Seleema, "and yet you ignore me! All of you!"

They had no answer for her.

The next day, Vilkas had gone to her little corner in the living area of Jorrvaskr to see all her belongings gone. He stared down at the empty cot and then walked stiffly to Kodlak's small antechamber, slumping down in the spare chair while the elderly man stared at him sympathetically. "Morregon came to speak to me earlier to tell me she was leaving."

Vilkas gave no sign that he heard him. Kodlak continued just the same. "It is a hard world for a mage. The Thalmor have given them a bad reputation. Not to mention the Oblivion fiasco…" Still Vilkas said nothing. Kodlak sighed. "Seleema is upset about it. I could hear the two of them getting into one of their shouting matches from here. But she was determined… What a spine she has."

No response. Finally, Kodlak rolled his eyes and then reached across the table to slap the side of Vilkas' face. The younger man jerked in his seat and stared at Kodlak with shock and fury. No one had reprimanded him like that since he was a boy. "Stop acting like a sulking child," snapped Kodlak, "and go do something about this. If you want her to stay, tell her so. Although," he said thoughtfully, "at this point it may be too late. You've all pushed her to her limits."

The black-haired warrior snarled, his wolf's blood rising momentarily before he shoved it back down again. Without another word, he stood up and left the room. He didn't need to say goodbye to Kodlak. The man knew where he was going.

Morregon had never stayed much at Jorrvaskr, due partially to the unfriendly vibes she was continually receiving, and partially because it just wasn't a good place for a mage to practice her craft. Although Seleema had technically been given the title of Thane of Whiterun after dispatching the dragon and taking his soul, she had given the house to her friend to use as she wished. Lydia, the housecarl, spent half her time in Jorrvaskr with Seleema and spent the rest doing whatever she wanted, so Morregon had Breezehome to herself. With these thoughts in mind, he rushed for the door to Jorrvaskr, intent on tracking her down and demanding an explanation.

_She has to be there. She can't be gone already. She can't have left. __**But what if she has?**_ Vilkas had to stop for a moment, suddenly feeling sick. Then he straightened, the beast blood boiling up, leaving one resounding thought in his mind: _If she's left, then by the gods, I'll find her and drag her back. _

It was not a question: It was a fact. It was simply the way it was going to be. **MINE**, his wolf side hissed. **MINE**. Vilkas vaguely recalled Kodlak once mentioning how wolves mated for life, and their kind was no different once they found someone they truly wanted. He had hated the idea at the time, having to resort to one woman for the rest of his life. But now, he didn't care. Now he couldn't imagine any other.

Vilkas strode down the streets of Whiterun, ignoring everyone and everything in his path until got to the entrance of the home that Morregon had made for herself. Then he threw the door open and slammed it shut once he was on the inside.

"Vilkas? What the hell?"

And there she was, standing on the wooden stairs, looking livid, wearing a pair of simple cotton breeches and shirt, her hair damp and down from just having washed it. For all intents and purposes, she looked like someone preparing for sleep. But Vilkas couldn't be fooled. He saw the tear-paths on her cheeks, saw how her eyes were red and swollen. He gave one low, feral growl, and Morregon's eyes widened as she took a defensive step back on the stairs. But Vilkas moved faster. He was as close to being in wolf-form without shedding his human appearance as he could be, and he could move damn fast as a wolf.

The mage gave a small scream of fear as he descended upon her, and he knew what she was thinking: that he was going to tear her to shreds and she was just going to die right there. Instead, she found herself falling back onto the stairs with Vilkas looming over her, his larger, stronger frame covering her small one. He was inches away from her, his hands on either side of her head and his legs straddling hers, but he wasn't touching her with so much as a hair. And yet she felt like the only possible way for him to be even closer would be for him to actually…

"You're leaving," he said slowly, his voice sounding harsh to even his ears.

She gulped nervously, her beautiful green eyes reflecting the fright she felt at that moment. "Yes."

He was completely silent for a while, and so was she. Neither of them moved, her from terror, and him from… something else. Suddenly Morregon noticed the tiniest tremors wracking his body. He was shaking, ever so slightly, but all over. His head hung down so she couldn't see into his face, and she cautiously lifted a hand to move his hair away from his eyes.

"Why?" he whispered brokenly to her, and he lifted his face so that Morregon could see the pain etched into his features. "Why are you leaving?"

"Oh, Vilkas," she said softly. Bringing her hand up to cup his cheek, she stroked his skin gently with her thumb and looked sadly into his eyes. "You know why."

"Don't go."

"I can't stay here, Vilkas. I'm miserable."

"I can make you happy." And he leaned his head down and pressed his lips to hers in a fierce and possessive kiss. Morregon stiffed momentarily from surprise and then wrapped her arms around his shoulders, returning the kiss. He leaned into her, managing to move his arms around her back so that they were laying on the stairs, completely absorbed in each other.

Morregon squirmed under him a little, making a sound of discomfort. "Vilkas, your armor. It's chaffing."

He said nothing, but moved his arms down her back, over her butt and to her thighs. With one movement, he rocked back onto his heels and pulled her up with him, so that he was standing on the stairs while holding her up. She gave a squeak of surprise as he began to lift her and wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly for support. Without a moment's hesitation, Vilkas carried her upstairs, glancing into the first room on the left and then moving to the master bedroom (or what could only pass as one in such a small house).

Kicking the doors shut behind him, he let her fall to the bed, and then crawled over her, kissing her hard again before moving to kiss and nuzzle her neck. Morregon gave a moan and reached up to Vilkas' shoulders, then threading her fingers through his hair and arching up into him. Suddenly he pulled back, and Morregon was treated to the sight of his eyes turning from a rich brown to a golden yellow. Morregon felt her own eyes widen again in surprise as Vilkas sat back and pulled his gauntlets off. She reached up to him but he gave a low growl and pulled a small dagger out from his boot, quickly slicing through her jerkin. She made a sound of protest, but what was left of the clothing was pulled off her and tossed to the floor, soon to be followed by her breeches as Vilkas impatiently yanked them off her. She was wearing nothing underneath, having planned to go to sleep shortly before the man stripping her had shown up.

She gave an annoyed huff. "You could have asked you know."

"Too much effort," he replied, and then he grabbed her wrists, pulling her arms above her head firmly but gently. He stopped moving for a moment, and Morregon couldn't help but blush as his eyes swept over her naked form leisurely and appreciatively. "You're beautiful," he said finally, and his tone was almost worshipful. Before she could respond, he lowered his head to her breasts, licking along the sensitive skin. She moaned beneath him, and his eyes gold eyes turned molten as the bestial urge to claim her, take her began to grow stronger within him. Allowing himself to give into it a small bit, he began to lightly nip along her breasts, moving slowly to her nipples until he took them in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the buds and sucking at them before going back to nibbling around them. Morregon writhed under him as he alternated back and forth, groaning and whimpering as he continued his ministrations. She barely registered his free hand moving down between her legs until she felt him slipping his fingers inside her.

With a loud gasp, she bucked her hips up against his hand. "Vilkas!" she cried out, arching up, trying to free her wrists to touch him, kiss him, do _something_ to drive him as wild as he was driving her. But he held tightly to her hands, his fingers pumping into her quickly as he searched out the spot that would make her scream for him. He found it quickly, and she threw her head back and gave a ragged moan, whimpering his name as he continued. "Vi… Vil… ka… aaaAAA!" His name turned into a scream suddenly as curled his fingers within her, moving harder against the sweet spot he had found. Vilkas kept up his assault on her breasts while he moved his hand against her, relishing every gasp, every moan, every cry of pleasure. He pulled his head away to kiss her once more, hard on the lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She kissed him back greedily, as the two of them fought for dominance with their tongues and lips until he drew away, returning back to the rest of her skin.

She was incoherent now, not knowing what she was saying and not caring either as she thrashed about, feeling herself drawing closer to the edge. Morregon could feel it building up within her, like a giant wave about to crash down any moment. Vilkas was merciless, moving his hand faster, harder, deeper, his tongue and mouth tracing a burning trail over her mouth, neck and breasts. "Vilkas, please!" she begged. "I need to… I want…"

"I know," he murmured against her neck as he pressed his lips against the one, lone freckle on her collarbone. "I know." He loved every sound she made, knowing it was for him, and each cry of ecstasy sang through him, etching themselves in his ears and mind. He kept up the pace as she drew closer and closer, staying as quiet as he could so as to just revel in the sounds of the woman beneath him.

He could feel her start to tense up one last time, and he kissed her softly and said "I love you," before he flicked his fingers against her most sensitive area.

Morregon had opened her mouth to say _"Oh, Vilkas, I love you, too," _but as the orgasm smashed into her, flooding every sense and nerve in her body, all she could do was scream his name over and over as she lost all control and her vision was clouded with stars.

She lay there panting and oblivious to the world around her as Vilkas pulled away and licked his fingers clean before starting to pull off his armor. Managing to summon some semblance of strength, she pulled herself up to the headboard slightly to try to focus on his movements as he unhooked buckles and undid straps and dropped his armor on the floor next to his gauntlets and boots. He glanced up from his work as she made an appreciative sound and smirked as he saw her eyes rake over his body and lick her lips.

When he was finally as naked as she was, he climbed back over her, gently pulling her under him and running his fingers slowly over the skin of her shoulders. Their eyes caught each other and the raw emotion and adoration reflected in Vilkas' eyes made something in Morregon's heart clench tight. "I love you, Vilkas," she said raggedly, managing to say then what she couldn't earlier.

He smiled at her, running his knuckles over her cheek softly and nuzzled her nose with his, showing that he knew and understood. Now that her hands were free, she wrapped them around him, running her hands over his back and sides and arms. Her fingers traced ancient battle scars and she looked up at him with soft, sad eyes as she imagined the pain he had been in with each wound that had left its mark upon his body. The look left him weak; no one had ever turned their eyes on him in such a way, and she took the moment to flip their positions so that he was beneath her. He offered little resistance and as she began to kiss and lick at every wound, he gave a grunt and all thoughts of taking back his dominant position fled from his mind. He let his head fall back and just shivered and groaned as she explored him slowly, moving down his chest until-

Vilkas' eyes shot open as she licked along his length, his muscles tensing. With a loud growl, the wolf inside him sprang back to the surface, refreshed from its momentary lapse, and he grabbed her and rolled her under him again, penetrating her with one smooth movement.

She didn't cry out this time but gasped loudly, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and grasping his hair in her hands. He set a pace, steady and hard, but gaining speed and angle. Morregon moved her hips with him, encouraging him with her voice, her hands, her sounds of pleasure and then-

Vilkas' arched his back, a cry ripped from his throat as Morregon's hands sparkled with magic and made their ways across his body, sending waves of pleasure through him. Lifting a leg higher up along his waist, he thrusted into her harder, making her groan.

They moved together as one, their groans and sighs echoing through the room. The few candles in the room burned down low, letting the light from the magic in Morregon's hands illuminate her lover's skin as he moved within her, one of his hands grasping hers tightly as her fingers clenched and unclenched around his in time with his thrusts.

The two of them could feel their climaxes drawing closer and their sounds grew in volume and strength along with it. The power from Morregon intensified and soon both their bodies were glowing, shinning out in the darkness, but neither of them noticed or cared, keeping their gazes on each other as they moaned and panted, whispering "_So close, almost, more, more, yes_," and then-

The screams of total rapture tore through Morregon completely, and for a moment it was as though the moon was shining in the room. Vilkas came soon after, thrusting into her just a few more times until he too came crying out her name, digging his fingers almost painfully into her hips.

Both of them lapsed into almost total unconsciousness, their limbs still tangled together until their breathing evened out and they could see clearly. Or at least as clearly as they could in the relative darkness. Vilkas rolled to his side groaning softy. "Divines, woman, how did you learn that damned magic trick?"

She turned her head to look at him. "Didn't like it?"

"It was amazing. If I'd have known mages could do things like that, I wouldn't have touched any woman that wasn't one before."

"Well…" Morregon stretched a little, yawning. "Actually, it's not all mages. It's something that only people with mer blood can do."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Elf blood?"

Morregon shifted closer to him, letting out a contented sigh as he wrapped his arm around her and explained. "Most of us Bretons are descended directly from half-elves years ago. The Altmer took human slaves to their beds and either impregnated or became pregnant by them, and their half-breed children reproduced among themselves. So…" she gestured vaguely in the air, the final vestiges of the glow flashing before disappearing from her skin.

"So elves can do that? Without even trying?"

"Any elf and elf descendant with enough magic in their blood can glow while making love, yes."

"Always?" he asked her.

She yawned and he grinned as she snuggled against him, letting him pull the blankets over her. "For me, no. I have to…" she yawned again. "I have to completely let go with my partner. Trust them completely and… love them."

He kissed her forhead. "I love you also."

She let out a contented sigh as she began to drift off. But he couldn't let her fall asleep without knowing first. "You're still leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"

Morregon opened her eyes. "I'll spend the day with you, if you like. But I should be with my own."

He was silent for a few minutes, trying to keep his heart from breaking within his chest. "Where are you going?"

"Winterhold Mage's College."

Vilkas felt a rush of relief. While the college wasn't exactly next door, it wasn't in Cyrodiil, like he had been afraid of. "Will you come back?"

She was quiet for a minute and then took his hand and kissed it. "I'll come back when I deserve you."

He remained quiet as she curled up against him. He was wondering what she meant by that, and also how she couldn't see that he was the one that didn't deserve her.

It was alright though. Their roads were diverging now, although it wasn't what he wanted, but splits in the roads were just different ways to the same destination. They'd end up at the end together.

* * *

I was going to do a couple chapters with Farkas and Seleema, and then another with Vilkas. Not sure when it'll be updated though. I have other commitments elsewhere in Storyland. However, I promise I'll finish it. Don't worry about that.

Like I said, this was my first lemon in quite some time. Hopefully I did it justice and it turn out god-awful. Even if it wasn't the best you've ever read, I do hope that it was nonetheless enjoyable. Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, so here's Seleema and Farkas. I should warn you, gentle readers, that this chapter may be a bit more… steamy than the last one. I'm sorry if it grosses anyone out, it's just what it called for. I meant for it to come out a different way, but Farkas' and Seleema's chemistry was too strong for me. I couldn't fight it! Hopefully it's not too awful.

As usual, I own none of the characters, and apologies for any scared retinas that may occur after reading this chapter.

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**The Convoluted Path**

The last time Farkas had seen a woman send Skjor flying into the air with an attack had been… well, never. Aela was no pushover when it came to a fight, but her strength was in her speed and fast hands. She could grab an arrow to shoot a bird down faster than it could take off into the skies. Farkas knew this for a fact: he and Vilkas had once timed it. Ria was skilled in combat, but not enough to take down Skjor, and especially not that spectacularly. Njada knew better than to try it. She could probably take the old man if she had a mind to, but it would be too much effort for a simple training bout. The woman knew her limits and she wasn't about to go pushing them for something that wasn't life threatening.

But Seleema was a different matter entirely. Unlike the other new recruits, she stood her ground as Skjor sized her up and made comments about her being a new whelp. When he tried to say something disparaging, she ignored him. When Vilkas made a comment about her being new and needing to run errands, she would say something snarky and then go do it anyway. But she never did a halfway job. When someone asked her to do something, told her to do something, challenged her to do something, the Redguard did it wholly and completely, whether it made the requester happy or not.

That was how and why Skjor found himself being flung across the training grounds; he had mockingly said that Seleema's muscles were only good for show, except that it failed to interest anyone. The Redguard had calmly asked the man to step outside so that she could show him whether or not the muscles were useless after all. They were not. She had rammed into him like a bull, and this time she didn't bother hiding the pure anger on her face when she walked over to him and smashed her foot into his stomach. "Any time you want to go again, big boy," she spat at him, and then walked back inside.

Seleema was terrifying when she was truly angry or upset. The good news was that she rarely was, and that everyone knew what made her angry. The first thing that got her riled up was when someone insinuated that she was powerless or had no skills. Oddly enough she didn't mind someone pulling rank on her; she knew that she was a new member and so didn't mind having to prove herself. What she minded was when someone considered her weak without basis.

Another thing that infuriated the woman was when someone tried to mess with Morregon, the Breton Mage-woman who had come with Seleema. Farkas had nothing against her himself, except that she used magic. He distrusted her because of that, and made no pretense of hiding it. At least he was more polite than some of the others though. He tended to ignore the mage while the others ridiculed her frequently.

It was on one such occurrence that Farkas had learned that what Seleema hated most of all was inaction, especially against something she deemed as wrong.

Skjor and Tovar had pinned the Breton at the dining table while she was eating. They spoke and laughed loudly together, mocking her 'sparkly fingers' and wondering what good she'd do once she was out of magic. Farkas remained seated in his chair, impassively watching the events unfold. Seleema walked in just as Morregon walked out, and her friend hadn't missed the carefully placed mask of blank emotions start to slip as a miserable expression appeared. The first thing Seleema did was punch Tovar right in the nose, and then start a shouting match with Skjor. That had been fun until Kodlak came in and with just a few words, put them all back into place. Farkas didn't remember exactly what was said, but it was something along the lines of actions backing up words and Morregon succeeding very well in that area. What Farkas _did_ remember in great detail was when Seleema strode up to him afterwards and stared at him with an expression he had seen her giving nasty insects before.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"You just _sat there_ while they said all those horrible things about your _shield sister_ and didn't do a thing to help her."

Farkas shrugged. "She's supposed to be a fighter, right? She needs to learn to fight back."

Seleema smacked him hard over the head, ignoring his yelp of pain. "You need to learn the difference between needing to fight and needing to have someone stand up for you."

He had no idea what she was talking about.

A couple months later, Seleema and Morregon announced they were going away for a while. When asked what for, they said "Dragon hunting." The Companions weren't sure whether to believe it or not, but Farkas hadn't wanted to take the risk. He'd be kicking himself for weeks if they came back with dragon paraphernalia and he'd missed out.

"They're not going to hunt dragons, ice brain," Aela told him with an exasperated face. "They're just saying that because they're off to do something else."

"What if they're not lying? What if they are going after a dragon?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. "Fine, go ask them if you can join. If they say no they're lying."

"And if they say yes," Farkas said smugly, "then they're telling the truth and I'll go with them."

"Fine. But they won't say yes."

Farkas won five gold from her when they did.

True to their word, they did in fact go and hunt dragons. And Farkas witnessed firsthand the powers of the Dragonborn, as well as the full destructive capabilities of Morregon's magic. Ysmir Himself, she had practically fried the dragon in its own scales with her magic. The mage was more than impressive, certainly, but Seleema was… Farkas' words did not do justice to it, especially since his vocabulary was marginally more limited than Vilkas'. Instead he had patted them both on the back (somewhat roughly, but his enthusiasm was not unappreciated) and said the hunt was the best he'd been on in years.

Morregon and Farkas may not have always seen eye to eye on things after that, but he never again doubted her prowess in battle and made it clear to the others upon their return that he wouldn't tolerate people saying such things around him either. He hadn't thought this was such a big deal when he did this; Morregon was a friend, and she didn't deserve to have those things said about her, especially now that he knew they weren't true. Morregon (when not being verbally assaulted or in an uncomfortable position) was a very friendly, funny, talkative and creative person. But when he stood up for her, strangely enough it was Seleema that came to thank him first. Morregon shyly thanked him afterwards, but it was nowhere near as enthusiastic as Seleema's thank you. She had run up to the tall Nord and had thrown herself at him, declaring him to be one of the most thoughtful men she'd ever known.

Looking back on it, that was possibly the start of it all.

From that point on, Farkas seemed to develop strange symptoms whenever Seleema came around. They were relatively mild at first and then gradually grew. He found himself vouching for Seleema whenever they were discussing something that had to do with her, going out of his way to offer her help whenever she seemed to need it, even when she didn't want it. When she smiled at him it was as though his entire day was brighter. When he said something to make her blush and look at him shyly from under her lashes, it was like he'd taken down a troll barehanded and by himself. Things were just better with her around. She did things to make him happy without him saying anything, and it was after their first slightly awkward but wonderfully sweet first kiss that they decided to quietly begin courting.

It wasn't as though it was a terribly huge secret; every Companion knew it, had seen it lead up to that point. Luckily no one said anything to either of them, although Morregon once told him quietly that Seleema cared for him greatly and if he did anything to hurt her she'd set him on fire faster than he could blink. He didn't doubt her. Farkas occasionally found himself at a loss as to what to do, of course, having never properly courted a girl before. Sure, he'd bedded a few here and there, but nothing serious. It was always just for fun and he and the girls had parted ways in the morning usually on friendly terms. But Seleema was completely different. He had no intention of treating her like that; he wanted to do it right.

However, they were both still Companions, and as such he still had to think of her as a shield sister in some regards. When Aela quietly suggested that they introduce Seleema into the Circle, Farkas had enthusiastically agreed. Vilkas had also put forth Morregon's name, which Farkas had been fine with, but Skjor and Aela had turned that one down, to his brother's deep disapproval. Farkas hadn't agreed with that decision really, but he was subordinate to the older Circle members and wasn't about to challenge the ranks. And so Seleema had been Turned, but it wasn't the way that they had said it would be. They hadn't brought Farkas with them so that he could help keep her calm. They had discovered some time before that when the Redguard woman went into a berserker mode or became too emotional to think clearly, Farkas had a rather unique ability to calm her down. Morregon managed to keep her friend's head on most times, but Farkas had a way with his peaceful voice and naturally amiable personality to ease her rage. He had planned to be there at her Turning because he remembered what had happened at his own. He had been power-drunk, energized, his blood singing with strength, but completely disoriented. From his own experience, Farkas knew that the first Turning was frightening. He had wanted to be there so that when she Turned, he could as well in the hopes that his own wolf form would still be familiar to her in a primal sense.

They had ignored his request, of course. And she had gone tearing out and around the town, terrorizing people because she didn't know any better. Seleema was not in control of her own body, and when they found her naked and shivering out in the grasslands she had an expression that made his heart ache. She looked up at him with her blue eyes as though to say _Why was I alone?_ and all he could do was cradle her in his arms all the way back to Whiterun.

Things changed from that point. Seleema seemed to be lost, especially after Morregon left to go to Winterhold College, and every attempt to speak to her was rebuffed with varying degrees of coldness. She seemed to just shut everyone out, and Vilkas was no help after Morregon took her leave of the Companions. Farkas found himself feeling out of place as well. His best friend was pinning after another of his friends, and the girl he was fairly certain he loved was no longer speaking to him.

All things considered, life became very miserable in a very short amount of time. He had no idea what he was supposed to do about everything at this point. It was at moments like this that he had to stop thinking, he had to stop worrying, he had to do something to make his mind go away, if only for just a little while. And so that night when the moon was at a perfect crescent, he walked outside the city (such as it was) and out into the plains wearing a black cloak. The grass brushed gently against his legs and hands as he walked further and further from the city, towards the woods. He stopped after a couple of miles and stood stock still, listening to the music of the world around him. He took a deep breath and then let his cloak fall from him, revealing his nakedness. The cloth fell behind him, now forgotten as he reached deep within himself, felt his blood and forced the beast within him up, up through his bones, his muscles, his skin-

A howl ripped out of his throat as he changed his form, his bones and body cracking and altering as he transformed into the werewolf. And then he was running, running faster than he ever had before, the wind ripping through his fur and the wilds calling to him, a quiet, powerful call. He answered it gladly another howl, only to freeze as he heard it echoed. It was not the cry of a wolf, but of a Sibling, another werewolf. Farkas spun around, his keen sense of smell and sight scouring around him. He heard the neighboring howl once more and looked to see the other. It was a female werewolf; he could smell the different scent on the wind, and not an unfriendly one. They stared at each other, and then she took off running, a challenge clear. Farkas took off after her, quickly catching up, and then they were side by side, the echoes of the night around them and they cried out to the moon together. Farkas didn't know how far they ran, wasn't paying attention to it. Distance was no problem for him, no concern because he was used to this form. His running partner however seemed to be growing winded, her breath coming out in short bursts. He registered that she must be new to the changes, and gently nudged her towards a nearby treeline. Although it was safe to change into a werewolf form out in the open, it was not safe to turn back into a human. Turning to a werewolf, you were already gaining the power and agility of the wolf, whereas turning into a human you were losing it.

They reached the edge of the woods quickly, and the woman was already starting to transform. He followed her into the woods to ensure that she would be safe; their shared condition gave all werewolves a sense of camaraderie. He too began to revert back, the fur sinking back and his fangs growing back into his teeth. His nakedness did not concern him. The female was quickly changing, staggering through the woods, and he noticed a familiar scent. He sniffed the air and followed closely. It smelled of something foreign and sweet, like the faint smell of a soap that Seleema used.

Farkas froze and stared at the woman. He could see clearly in the dark, and yes, her skin was changing to the proper color, her hair was the right shade of black- she turned her face towards him and Farkas took a breath. "Seleema."

Her eyes were a rich golden color, glowing in the dark. The beast form had left her, but it still boiled in her blood. She bared her teeth at him, a feral vestige of the appearance that had left her. She was glorious. Farkas' eyes glowed in response and he felt himself growl deep and low as he walked towards her.

She watched him as he approached and when he was just inches from her she whispered "Farkas." He growled again and then suddenly she sprang up and he was holding her, his arms holding her up in the air while her arms and legs wrapped around him tightly. He kissed her hard, noting with no small amount of pleasure how good it felt to have her pressed up against him.

Had either Farkas or Seleema any control over their minds at that particular moment, had they been in full reign of their senses, they would have separated instantly and given each other some polite distance without holding the moment against the other and instead filling it away for a later time. But now the wolfblood rushed through them, their bestial nature taking over, neither of them caring about the consequences or ramifications of their actions.

Farkas pressed her back against a tree trunk, moving his mouth moving down her throat to nip and bite at her skin. Her hands in return traced over his back, her nails carving their way along his spine. The pain of her fingers digging into his skin mingled with the pleasure he felt at her touch and he noted with no small amount of satisfaction how she groaned when he ground his hips against hers. In response, she pressed her chest against his and he moved a hand away from her side down to her breasts, pinching one of her nipples in a way that was just short of rough. Seleema tried to wriggle against him, panting as she reached for his length, wanting to feel him inside her. He obliged her, raising her up before lowering her down onto his erection. Normally this would have been uncomfortable to her; she was aroused, but not to the point where she could take this without some discomfort. But in her current state, she didn't care and pressed against him wantonly, encouraging him with her body and moans. Farkas dug his fingers and nails into her hips as he pounded into her, not caring about anything other than the ecstasy pouring through him as he pushed her and himself closer and closer towards the edge.

It didn't take either of them long to reach their peak; she screamed out her rapture towards the skies and he bit her neck as he came within her, groaning loudly. She would have sunk down had he not been supporting her, and they stood there leaning against the tree as their breathing calmed and evened. The lust and hazy feeling accompanied by their changing blood was clearing from their minds, and they stared at each other with eyes changing from the molten gold of wolves to the deep blue and rich brown that they normally were. Neither of them moved during this, as they realized what they had done. As they stood there they were faced with a choice, an unspoken option; the first choice was to simply separate and walk away, behave as though it never happened. Neither of them knew what changes this would bring about, only that it would be denying what they had done and what it meant. Farkas had changed many times before, alone and with others, including women. He had never before done what he had with Seleema. His new lover, on the other hand, was unsure and felt completely over her head. Never before had she behaved as she had with this man, and never before had she felt so unsure about what he thinking, so worried about what he would do now. She had the horrifying thought that perhaps he would be disgusted with her, toss her aside, amount their actions to a singular incident.

This was unacceptable. She would not allow him to push this away although she knew that he probably wouldn't and he knew he would never forget this for the rest of his life. But it was too late to turn back now. The warrior woman surged her hips towards his again, earning a groan from him, still inside her. He tried to pull out, whispering her name hoarsely, but she would not allow him. With a determined expression she shoved against him, making him fall backwards onto the ground. He slipped out of her as he fell and they both felt a moment of relief when they realized that he had landed on a patch of soft grass. It could have been much worse.

She hesitated briefly, closed her eyes and swallowed. "Seleema," she heard him murmur, his voice unsure, and without a moment's hesitation she straddled him, rubbing herself against his length again. He groaned loudly and she felt with satisfaction as it began to rise against her. She leaned over, letting her breasts brush against Farkas' chest, but pulled back as he reached for her. He snarled in frustration. He didn't understand what this woman was _doing_. This was not the time, not the place. It wasn't safe-

She surged against him once more and all thoughts of safety flew from his mind faster than a deer from a sabercat.

With a snarl he reversed their positions so that she was beneath him. He flipped her over so that she was on her knees in front of him and he reached around her to rub the nub of flesh between her legs making her gasp loudly. He covered her, slipped himself inside her and grinned against her neck as she gasped out his name. Then his teeth sunk down into the skin of her shoulder as he moved within her again, his hand still working between her legs. She shuddered under him, her cries echoing in the small space they inhabited for that space of time. There was nothing there but them, and he concentrated only on her as he moved in and out. Shudders of pleasure swept through him as her body reacted to his, her inner muscles growing tighter. The wolf within him began to whisper within him once more and he moved faster, not caring that his knees were starting to bleed slightly from the rocks he was kneeling on.

Seleema bit her lip tightly as she tried to hold back her sounds of pleasure, but Farkas was having none of that as he pushed his fingers against her harder and thrust deeper. It was building up once more; it seemed as though it would never come but at the same time like it was coming too fast. Her arms and legs were trembling, her breath coming out in short gasps and she could hear him straining as he continued to move inside her. Finally it was too much and she screamed out his name as her body finally gave in to the pleasure. Farkas tried to hold back, tried to ride it out, but it was too much and he too gave in, groaning her name in her ear.

They both collapsed on the ground, their bodies slick with sweat and some blood. Farkas lay on his back and Seleema on her side, facing away from him. Neither of them moved for a few minutes while their breathing evened out, and then Farkas turned his head to face her. He noted with concern the marks he had left on her shoulders and slowly reached out a hand to trace them.

"Oh, Sel…" he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… to hurt you." He sat up (trying to ignore the sudden lethargy that was overwhelming) and with a rising sense of horror noticed all the marks he had left on her. "Oh, gods, Sel, I'm so, so sorry. I… I didn't… I mean... I..." He swallowed and tried to make his fingers stop trembling as they reached out to brush her hair out of her eyes. She wasn't looking at him, still laying on her side and staring off into the woods. "Sel, please, say something. Are you alright?" She didn't answer and Farkas turned away, burying his face in his hands out of self-loathing. He had _hurt_ her. He had hurt her and… and… "Oh, gods," he whispered brokenly. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to, please, please say something."

Seleema stopped his broken pleas by reaching one of her hands out to cover his. "It's alright, Farkas," she murmured. "It's alright." But her mind was swimming with emotions, threatening to drown her in them. _What had she_ _done? How could she have done that? _She shoved the thoughts down and sat up next to Farkas, wrapping her arms around his shoulder, noting with sorrow how she had marred his skin. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should never have… I didn't mean to do that." He just shook his head and kept staring at the ground. Seleema frowned. "Farkas," she said insistently, "please look at me."

He hesitated but did as she asked. His eyes moved over her face. "You aren't hurt?" he asked uncertainly.

She hesitated. "You didn't hurt me," she said finally. "There was nothing you did that I didn't ask for."

"Look at you," he said, waving his hand at her. "I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted… I wanted our first time to be… to be different."

"I understand," she said softly.

Neither of them spoke after that, just watched each other's faces. Finally, Seleema reached out and pulled him towards her, curling her body up against his. "Can you stay with me tonight?" she asked him.

Farkas stared down at her and then smiled uncertainly. "If that's what you want me to," he said.

They ended up going to a small hut that Farkas knew of nearby that had blankets and a small bed that barely held the two of them together. "It's a place we put together," he explained, meaning the other members of the Circle. "When we run too far away from Whiterun we usually come here, or if we just want to hunt."

Seleema examined the small hut with a blanket clutched tight around her and gave him a smile that made his heart jump. "It's lovely, Farkas. I really like it out here."

He smiled back at her, a real, honest smile this time. "I'm glad." He turned away for a moment to toss some blankets on the bed and then looked back at her hesitantly. "I was going to wait for a better time to say this, but I might as well now." She watched him expectantly as he took a breath and said, "I love you."

She gave him a beautiful smile, somewhat amused at his usual bluntness, and said, "Oh, good. I love you too."

Later that night they were both laying in bed, both on their side, and he was holding her tightly to him. They hadn't done anything else before falling into bed. Neither of them wanted to say it, but it was the cold, hard fact- they shouldn't have done it. It was too soon and fast and not what they were used to. In truth, they were both slightly shaken from it. Seleema usually wasn't into rough sex. Playful, sure, but what they had done was… not what she was used to. And Farkas had never taken a woman so forcefully before. It was some consolation that she also had pleasure from it, but it was not what he had wanted for her. She deserved better than that.

Still, she assured him that she was fine, and that she did in fact love him as she had said. He managed to fall asleep with this knowledge, his face buried in the crook of her neck, breathing her scent as though he never wanted to smell anything but her. Seleema tried to stay as close to him as possible, doing her best to imprint the feeling of his arms around her, the sound of his breathing, the warmth of him next to her.

She'd worked up the courage to tell him that she loved him. She hadn't been able to tell him that the next morning she was leaving for her training with the Greybeards and didn't know when she'd be back.

The next morning, Farkas found a note where Seleema had been the night before.

_Being Dragonborn comes with responsibilities I cannot shirk. I'll come back as soon as I can. If you decide to move on while I'm gone, I won't blame you._

_I meant it when I said I loved you._

_-S_

Farkas sighed as the read the words, and ran a finger over the hastily scrawled letters. He'd wait for her. He knew she'd come back too. She may not have realized it, but the night before had been more than a night of debauched sex. They belonged to each other now, and he knew sooner or later her convoluted path would lead right back to him.

* * *

So there's Farkas and Seleema for you. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please review if you see something that you think could be improved, or if you just have a suggestion. Thanks so much!


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